


Darling Rabbit

by forthoseinPeril, odd future donut (forthoseinPeril)



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Alternate History?????, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Pokemon, Angst, British Humour, British References, Drama, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Blood, OMC is a prick sorry, Police Brutality, Riots, Romance, Violence, and gloria is his cousin, hop and leon are both roadmen, nothing sexual happens it's just the smoking, they're all 18+, victor catches feelings easily and he doesn't like it, victor is a scottish boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:06:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21868729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forthoseinPeril/pseuds/forthoseinPeril, https://archiveofourown.org/users/forthoseinPeril/pseuds/odd%20future%20donut
Summary: Tension grows when the work strike in Victor's town doesn't go as greatly as planned, morphing into a brutal riot against workers and students against the police force. When Victor gets caught in the middle of it all and is subjected to the police brutality, his ma had no choice but to send him off to London to live with his aunt and uncle.Now dealing with the sudden change, Victor makes an effort to fit in with the crowd at his new school while trying to deal with his fresh trauma.
Relationships: Hop/Masaru | Victor, OMC/Masaru | Victor, Yuuri | Gloria/Mary | Marnie
Comments: 16
Kudos: 102





	1. Blue Lights

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh keep in mind, Postwick is structured differently here than in the game, just imagine it being a town somewhat similar to Edinburgh :]

Victor was only supposed to go home.

He’d take the bus, walk home, eat dinner and enjoy his Friday in peace. But for some cruel reason a higher power thought it would be fun to make him suffer for nothing while on the cusp of the weekend.

“You know what you are, Dylan? Yer a fuckin’ cunt!” Victor heaved with anger, sniffling as he began to break down in tears. His now ex-boyfriend, Dylan, stood shrugged in front of him, avoiding Victor’s gaze as all his mates stood behind him. They’re at the front of the school, some of the exiting students now cocking their heads around to view the scene of an intense breakup.

After five minutes of complete silence, Dylan decided to speak up. “Babe…” Victor smacked his hands onto his face in frustration, turning away as he tried to wipe away tears. “…Babe! I jus’… I jus’ wasn’t interested anymore orright?” Dylan reached out his hand towards his ex, but Victor only slapped it away, becoming exhausted over shouting.

“Are you seriously saying that? Why didn’t you jus’ break up with me before? You didn’t have to go sneak and start making out with some girl for me to find out.” Victor’s voice was caught, strained from screaming and sobbing. He weakly shook his head, eyes itching from tears. “I can’t fuckin’ deal with you anymore. I _fucking_ hate you.” He was still quiet, adjusting his satchel bag slung on his shoulder as he trudged away from the school. He thought nothing worse could happen to him today, he’d fucking die.

It didn’t take long for the bus to arrive at the bus stop. Vic boarded on, avoiding the gaze of the concerned old lady sat beside him. His head was _pounding_. All that screaming and shouting at Dylan costed him a wicked headache, and he bloody hated it. Trying to get his mind off of _him,_ he turned his head toward the bus window to his side, leaning back against his seat over the old woman’s head. He blinked slowly, inhaling a deep breath as he watched buildings go by as the bus kept on moving.

Right after getting off the bus at his stop and waving the bus driver off, Victor shoved his hands into his pocket as he hiked up the slant of the pavement.

The scenery was eerily quiet. _Hmm, bizarre._

The town of Postwick was never this quiet. Victor started feeling queasy with concern, shrinking into himself while still making his way back home. He couldn’t see anyone outside their houses, washing lines still pegged with sheets. Everyone’s gone and the street is absolutely barren, _this is worrying_. Victor stopped to a halt when he reached the main street, sandwiched between two tall brick apartment complexes. He quivered, breathing heavily as he struggled to walk forward and expose himself to reveal the reason for the ghost town state of Postwick.

His breath hitched.

Men in vests and helmets blocked off the left end of the street, shielding themselves against the intensive stare of _every_ man and young man his age he knew in Postwick, blocking off the other end of the street as well, no defense or weapon in hand; it seemed so one-sided. The two sides mirrored two armies, facing each other before breaking the tension and cutting into their enemy’s throats.

_Shite._ Victor gulped. The tension was thick and suffocating, sweat beading on his forehead.

And then it started.

The right side cried out, like a battle cry, before aggressively marching forward. The left side wacked their batons on their shields, the sound adding to the tension as they marched forward with increasing speed.

_Thwack. Thwack. Thwack._

The two sides interlinked with each other so quickly, Victor thought he’d missed something. All of a sudden, men were thrashing against the shields of the police, men were roughly shoved down on the ground and thwacked with batons. Blood curdling cries rung out into the air, men rioting and putting up a fight as the police beat them down.

Vic didn’t know what to do, he needed to get past this, he’s _scared._ Shrinking into himself again, he ducked down away from the view of the rioters and cops, turning away to try get home safely. But then he crashed into someone.

“ _Fuck!_ ” his head hit the ground, _hard._ For a miniscule moment he rubbed his temple before struggling to get up, only to get trampled back down on his stomach to the ground.

“ _We got a runner!”_

His head was pounding and his arse hurt like hell, he could barely understand what the fuck the officer’s were saying but he didn’t care. His weariness before was long gone, he needed to get the fuck out of here. Slowly, he started crawling away from the police officer’s towering above him, passing between one of their legs. He staggered up and ran away, not looking back.

“ _Oi! He’s getting away! Get him! Get him!”_

“Shite!” Victor was panicking now, dreading looking over to find a stampede of police officers in S.W.A.T gear chasing for him. He’s starting to cry now. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!_ Vic sprinted as fast as he could, taking a sharp turn through the narrow alleyway between the sweets shop and deli. Even in his dazed, almost concussed state, Victor jumped over the fence and vigorously ran through the back of the deli, jumping past more fences and taking more turns.

But somehow the stampede of blue caught up with him, the rioters chasing behind them. Victor was panicking even more now, he’s running out of breath and his legs began to burn with strain. Before he could even stop he was tackled down to the ground. All of a sudden he was being thrashed with the cold hard metal of an officer’s baton; it hit against his throat, causing him to rasp for air as he was beaten further and harder and harder and _harder._

Vic didn’t want to end up like this, bloody and beaten stiff on the asphalt road, pleading for help as rioters sprinted passed him; some tripping and trampling over his limbs. He’s in pain, not being able to stop his tears from rolling down. He can’t get up. He _can’t._


	2. British Bombs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath, a serious decision is made, and gloria meets victor

_“Another protest turned riot has arisen in Postwick, resulting in three protesters arrested and ten protesters injured. One student is facing critical injuries after being restrained by police.”_

_He was hanging off the loose thread of consciousness, trying to grasp on staying awake, but his head was bleeding and air was harder to keep a hold of. He’s choking on his sobs, letting out crinkled sounds out from his bruised throat, unable to reach his face to wipe off more of the tears he’d shed this day._

_Red and blue lights are dancing at the edge of his eyes, at the same time as paramedics – he believes they are – swoop him off the ground and onto a stretcher. Laying him to rest inside of the ambulance._

o

_“Victor…”_

_“Victor, hey,”_

“Vic.”

Eyes fluttered open, Victor groaned from the dazing light of the hospital, squinting slightly. “Eh… ma?” his throat felt tight, his voice sounding crackly and raspy. As soon as he tried to sit himself up, a hand gingerly yet firmly held him down, keeping him back down on the bed.

“Hey, Vic.” She whispered, her voice soft and comforting. Victor wanted to burst into tears at just the blurred vision of his mother, to crawl into her arms and wish he was a child again, unaware and blissful of the people struggling in the outside world; but he couldn’t bring himself to shed a single tear, nor can he try to forget about the riot that happened whenever ago. It’s bullshite if you asked him.

“…what day is it.” Vic fought to say those words out the loudest he could. His ma’s small smile turned downwards slightly, only to pick up again with a nervous edge.

“Hon, it’s been a month.” She hesitated for what seemed like an eternity to Victor. “Ye’ve been sleeping for a month.”

_Fuck…_

He was asleep for a month. Asleep. For a month. In a _coma._ Vic inhaled a sharp breath, his head spells restless at the news. “Jesus Christ.” He cursed. His mother not correcting him for his bad language, a sign she was seriously worried for him. She stroked his hair as he laid down, breathing unevenly.

“Ma, Minnie’s cryin’.”

The head spells got worse. “Augh…fug awff Edwina.” Victor snapped rather hushed, his voice slurred. Said sister, Edwina, entered the ward as she pushed a pram in front of her. Shrill, ear-splitting cries of a baby flooding the room, causing Victor to groan from the sound.

“Eddie, give Minnie to Nan. Yer’ brother is feelin’ unwell.” Ma scolded quietly.

“He’s been unwell for _too_ long.” Edwina retaliated sharply, although imitating her mother’s quietness. Rolling her eyes, she turned the pram around, Minnie still crying and made her way out.

The absence of the baby cries left an awkward silence. Victor still laid down flat upon the bed. Despite his head still pounding, the boy opened his mouth to ask something, only to be interjected by Ma. “Yer’ getting out at the end of the week. The doctor wants you to stay for awhile. Is that awright?”

Vic could only give a shallow nod.

o

_“I don’ know what to do with ‘im, Freddie! He doesn’t want to go outside or watch the tele…”_

_“… He told me his therapist has helped him a bit, but… I think he maight be gettin’ worse…”_

_“It’s… worryin’. He’s throws a fit whenever I mention school… He did tell me he’d broken up with Dylan from school the same day but I think it maight be because of the raiot.”_

Ma’s voice was too loud even if she was in the other room. Victor drew his knees to his chest, his head perched over them. From all the eavesdropping he’s been doing on his mum on the phone every single night has made him reflect with what’s happened to him. _How the fuck did he end up like this? How can he change himself? How does he go back to normal?_ He doesn’t understand. Victor slumped downwards from the headboard til he was laying fully down on his mattress, brown eyes staring imaginary holes into the ceiling.

His spells have stopped a bit, although they happen every now and then. After the riot, Victor couldn’t take a single glimpse at a police officer without being reminded of that day. Watching the news on the tele always had him breaking into a sweat, even if the news story is about anything but _then_. He dreaded feeling like this, but he doesn’t have a full understanding on how he could cope, how to feel _better_. The therapist has given him recommendations of how to cope which worked for awhile, but in the end they wouldn’t work.

“Vic! Dinner’s here! Get down!”

Rather sluggishly, Victor slinked off his bed and trudged down the stairs, head turned slightly down. He slumped in his chair, wedged between Edwina and Minnie in her highchair. Ma came up to the table, Thai take-out bags in hand. Just at the smell of phad thai, Victor instantly realises just how starved he was. As soon as the food is taken out he’s shovelling the noodles onto his plate, stabbing chopsticks.

Everyone’s eating quietly, save for Minnie babbling nonsense as she flails her spoon in her mashed food. It’s yet again, awkward, listening to people just chew their food. Victor, already done with his food, sits back slouched on his chair. His leg bounces on the wood floor, uninterested in saying anything.

Then his mother spoke up.

“Vic.” She starts.

Victor instantly straightens in his chair. Sweats beginning to collect on his brow.

“I was discussing about this for awhile with yer’ aunty and…”

He shuts his eyes. He _knows_ what she’s about to say.

“… From now on, yer’ goin’ to live in London.”

_There it is._ Taking in a deep breath, Victor stays quiet; maybe for a bit too long. His leg stops bouncing.

“Okay.”

o

Crisp, chilling air hit his cheeks, stinging slightly. He nestled his nose in the warm fabric of his scarf as he stood waiting for his train, his Ma standing beside him reassuringly. A couple of minutes later the train came into view, braking at the station. Victor felt nervous, tightening his grip on his bag strap as he watched passengers spill out from the train door.

Before he steps forward, he turns to his Ma, making eye contact with her. She’s on the verge of crying, overwhelmed from having to let her son go. Just seeing her cry made Victor tear up himself after so long of not being able to. The both of them wrapped each other in a tight embrace, faces wet with tears. Victor was the first to pull away, waving off his Ma as he boarded the train.

This changes everything.

o

After a tedious train ride to London, a time consuming wait to buy crisps, Vic made his way out from the train station in search of his aunty’s car. From what his Ma sent him through text, she had a blue car.

There were about three blue car parked in waiting. _For fuck sake…_

Before he could let out an annoyed grunt he hears an ear-splitting honk of a car horn in the distance. Despite its loud arse horn, the car was miniature. A royal dark blue fiat cinquecento.

_Ah, it’s that one._

All of a sudden he’s nervous, clasping his hands together as he watches the car pull in rather roughly in front of him. He reached his hand out to give a little wave, but quickly retracted when he notices someone roll down the passenger window. A brunette girl still in her school uniform – judging from her navy blazer – nonchalantly chewing on her gum.

“Victor Tommy?” Victor thought he’d never hear that thick of a Scottish accent again.

“Aye.” He replied without hesitation, his nervousness going away.

“Arright. Get in!” She’s pointing to the back seat, and Victor complies with her.

Pushing his luggage to the side as he takes a seat and puts on his seatbelt, he’s met with the cheery voice of his aunty in the driver’s seat. “Victor! It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen ya! Yer’ so much moore mature now!” She shared the same thickness of Scottish accent as her daughter, who looked over at him as well. He opens his mouth to greet her back but is quickly cut off. “We’re jus’ gonna go straight back ‘ome so ye’ can put yer’ bags down, Yae?”

With the high Scottish energy just from his aunty and cousin’s first impressions, he felt slightly more comfortable than he originally thought.

“Yea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> funny tidbit about the car is that its the same model of the mingemobile in the inbetweeners  
> idk though it was funny hahah
> 
> hop's introduction next chapter!
> 
> tumblr: rakudaz


	3. whoops :0c

just a heads up, I'm making some major edits to the story. I know I haven't been updating and that's mostly just been because of school, mental health and etc. thanks to this ~~virus~~ , I might be more competent in updating. Plus I'm balancing my art stuff too, so that's something...

hope you guys don't mind the edits... because really they aren't _too big???_

anyway, hope you don't mind I'm trying my hardest to make this story fluid and entertaining.

**Author's Note:**

> henlo. you made it to the end!
> 
> please tell me if you liked it or have some criticism, i really need it
> 
> tumblr: rakudaz


End file.
